Across the River
by cryptic-doppelganger
Summary: A oneshot fic of Priam's brother Ganymede, cup bearer to the gods, and one of Zues's many lovers, Ganymede's POV on the Trojan war(based on the myth 'The Rape of Ganymede')(warning:mature content,slash implied)


This is a one shot story of Ganymede, cup lackey to Zeus, and one of his many lovers. I have put it here because it does relate to the story of 'Troy

disclaimer: I own none of these characters as much as I would like to huggles Ganymede

WARNING: mature themes discussed, yaoi themes implied

'

_Light has come ,_

_through darkness I descend, _

_yet in the end, _

_lying to myself again. _

_my blank eyes _

_cannot perceive _

_an unseen ocean_

_at my feet_

_should I fall_

_into the abyss_

_for everything else_

_(has) gone amiss _

Morelwen ( a part of the poem 'Walking in Mid winter' originally written for the story 'Stray')

My dreams had been of a black sea that moved softly with waves gently crashing against the shore line, it was relaxing, I heard myself sigh. There was a twilight that loomed over the sandy beaches that were almost as dark as the waters, with clouds overhead that stretched out their long mists to cover the sun, and yet very far away, on the horizon I saw light, yellow and orange, this was a sign I was sure, for I had stood alone on those sandy banks, wishing to dive into those placid waters and swim out, to go to the sun set, the light.

I ran to the boatman, who stood with his oar and raft, his face was grunt and wore a scowl. I begged him to ferry me across the ocean, and he shook his head. I held up the silver and gold necklaces around my neck, the riches given to me by my God, offering them as payment, but again he merely shook his head, and pushed off from the shore of the black sea. And I wept in vain for him to not leave, but I knew I had no harmonies lyre with which to strum the strings of a melody to persuade him, nor a voice with which to reason. I gazed longingly at the calm waves that swept along the beaches edge, not even turning to the foam I had for so long glimpsed on the seas of my homeland.

The next image had come swiftly after the first, I stood precariously at the pinnacle of a cliff over looking the very waters which I longed to sail across, to realize it was no ocean, but a river, a vast river that covered the entirety of the plain before me and across it lay the sun, setting fast, I had to reach it, the other side of this river. I stared out at the strip of light that reflected off the waves, and I knew despair. Dusk was departing, and I would never make it to the other side in the darkness, I was afraid to think of the all consuming night that would surely leave me blind, crippled and finally nothing.

I spread both my arms as though they were my wings and fell forward, falling towards the river, to my death.

I know I have never made it to the water. I would never be able to, for I was not meant to.

There was light. But then there was always light, but never in my darkened mind of whispered insanity. I opened my eyes and awakened to the world, knowing that I had not made it to the other shore, because I was still here. In this bed, with my Lord behind me, the one who brought me to this heaven that threatened swiftly to become my hell, if it hadn't already. I lay there, silent, and a dull, lifeless gaze clouded my eyes, with his arms around my still trembling form, he was awake now. I felt him kiss the back of my head, my disheveled curly hair before he moved to get up. I never wanted to leave this bed, soft and heavenly were it's finely threaded sheets, though I tried to forget what took place here when that glint of lust appeared in His eyes.

My body was sore and aching from the long hours sufficing to my god's fancy. Of my silent screams and desperate cries, and I could tell by the sparkle in his eyes that he had enjoyed it more then I. His pleasure this past day had been one of satyriasis, carnal groans and hard unyielding muscles against my slender body.

I wanted to sleep still and stand on my lonesome shores of death, that would remain forever safe guarded by my eternal life given to me by my one and only love, if love was truly what you could call it. I tended to believe it was his escape from a nagging wife who has slept in an empty bed more often then she would be inclined to.

I followed him, dressing myself with the few garments I was to wear, the ones that had been thrown to the ground in a blind passion of the god whom I belonged to, so to speak, and I was supposed to be appealing to the eye, I was one the King of Gods many lovers. Picking up my cap from where it had been carelessly tossed during the throws of ecstasy, I put it back upon my head, strapped my sandals to my feet and trailed behind Him as he lead me to the table, where I would serve.

"What pretty hair, what lustrous eyes, how they shine!" I heard them say as I passed before the table at which the deathless sat for their meeting. I smiled at them, but it was a hollow smile, empty and hollow, on the inside I wanted to cover my ears, stand motionless, and break down into silent cries. Was this all I had been reduced to?

They frequented in my head, telling me how lovely and fair I was, like voices in the mind of a mad man, echoes in my head from a nightmare, I scarcely heard them, but I couldn't get them to leave, to stop haunting me. Because that was what they were. Echoes, not to be heeded any more then the memories of a love lost and cursed like the poor nymph who pinned for her Narcissus who cared more for himself then her until an echo like the ones in my head remained. What had been done, was done, the aftermath remained and could not be washed away in the dark river of my sleep. That fateful day lost in play by that green and grassy knoll with friends and family alike, left to be an illusion that could only be glimpsed again through my hallucinations after the pain and pleasure could not be told apart, and everything collapsed upon me.

I closed them out sometimes, the voices of the gods, my gods, when I could not bare their melodies talk any longer when directed at me, I hated them, them and the amusement they gained from me; their entertainment. And yet at the same time I did not. What had I to accuse of them? I knew deep down they understood my true place amongst them, and their king, my king. I knew they knew when our eyes might chance to lock as I poured them their sweet nectar divine, and they might stay their chatter for a moment, contemplating if you will, my pensive hazel irises, before they return to their feast and company, and I look away to the next cup.

And always She watches me, as does He, but never without that acrimoniouslook that mocks and weeps all at once. Sweet goddess, how often has your husband, your brother, betrayed your bond of matrimony? There is no excuse for my stay after you told Him to be rid of me, what cause do I serve, other then His simple but rampant lust? I am no women, by the fates and oracles I have no purpose save His, I can bear no children to deliver cities from great and horrible danger and death, I will not live out some grand design for the future, I have no destiny greater than this.

I see her sorrow, her anger towards my existence, and I wish I could take away her pain. Her taunting voice whispers to me constantly, telling me often of my worthless existence, and my homeland being distraught and cowardly 'You all hide behind your walls that you take pride in so much that you cannot see past them' I would defend my kingdoms honor from such nonsense, but I am not the fool I was when I came here, and I will not back talk to the queen of gods, no matter how much power my lord holds over her.

So powerful she is, yet powerless to stop what occurs when I reach across the table to refill His cup, that lingering smirk on his lips that I catch every time, though I have tried often to forget and ignore it, if only she knew how many times. I have found myself feeling regretful for the times I have thought coldly of her. For every time she hath denied my pitcher and her own thirst just to show her anger, her jealousy. And I am so sorry, oh Queen who witnesses the scorn of seeing the boy who your husband would take to bed at his pleasure, or whenever you should quarrel, you stomach a bitter fate, worse then mine.

I know that you would sooner sack my city and ruin my family then forgive me, but I forgive you, with every spiteful insult and threat thrown my way, I forgive you, even when at first I lived in fear that you would kill me, I forgive every word, because I know you pause when you stare at me, when you see my suffering, and I know that you pity me as I do you, some where in your heart, and I am too far gone from my pride to resent a goddess' sympathy.

Even now as I turn and look up at the high table were those still feasting sit, I spot keenly that His eyes have been on me, I have been occupying his thoughts and he has been longing and restless for my body and all it can offer him. Had this been among my first days here, I might have looked away quickly, with a blush and the shy small smile of a virgin (or as near to one I can remember being) but too many times have I questioned my value to hold that innocent shine, replaced ever after by a dull expression of knowing.

More calls for the godly wine, and I am almost kept distracted from his eyes, too slow in parting for my or his wife's likes. But I have long since been able to lose my thoughts and let the endless requests guide me.

Somewhere a piper was playing a soft tune that calmed me, and I gazed up into the bright blue of the sky, where directly overhead was a darker shade than the horizon. I breathed in deep, the air was refreshing, I let it out in a sigh. Today was going to be hard, today my world would soon seem to crumble, for this meetings' purpose I already knew, as Hebe drew near to me, covering my ears with her long flaxen hair so that I might not hear their distinctive whispers of my might have been kingdom.

Do they think me blind? Do they believe I would not see from this mountain the troubles of war that hath been bestowed upon my home land? How could I not have seen Thetis like a water serpent slip up to my lord at his throne to curl her fingers beneath his chin and lay her hand on his knee to beg of him honor and glory to her son. He has been planning this all too well for her. Do I mean nothing to him?! Is what I gave up for him of no consequence?

I catch Zeus's eye, and I know he will not listen to me, Thetis has already won your favor, hasn't she?

And what am I but you faithful cup lackey? Haven't I forsaken all I had and could have had for your lust and desire? But I suppose your repayment to me ended with gifting me with the honor of adhering to your godly eroticism. Or perhaps even the horses you gave my father? Is there no place in your heart that you hold love for what I love?

And what will they do? Will they allow my city to be ruined? I turn my beseeching eyes on Apollo, the god said to hold my land in his heart, he seems troubled deeply, while _she_ sits with a smile forming on her lips, Athena beside her with a wicked smirk , I know she is longing for battle, and I can do no more then cry out in grief to Zeus, who avoids my eyes, whilst his daughter Hebe try as she might to soothe and console me, all the while averting my gaze from the world as I cling to her. And she sings sweet songs to distract me as I weep and beg the one who can change all of this, the one who snatched me from my beloved Troy.

The end

reviews would be nice


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